No Other Tail in the Sea
by Supervillegirl
Summary: Part 14 of my Tail series. Sherlock comes to conclusions about a certain pathologist.


No Other Tail in the Sea

"What about selenium?" suggested Sherlock.

Molly looked up at him at the lab bench. "Selenium…"

"Well, we need to isolate the compound without it being broken down," began Sherlock.

"And selenium would bond it with itself, forming an unbreakable connection," finished Molly, a smile appearing on her face. "Of course!" She rushed to the cabinets and pulled the bottle from it, coming back to the experiment she and Sherlock were working on.

Sherlock handed over a pipette, and Molly applied the selenium to the Petri dish.

Molly smiled after a moment. "It's working!"

Sherlock chuckled at the glee on Molly's face. They recorded the results and began cleaning up.

"How is your pod?" Sherlock asked as they worked.

"Very well," Molly told him. "Oh, which reminds me. Next week is a special full moon. It's a planetary alignment that only happens once every fifty years. Would you like to come?"

Sherlock smiled. "I would love to."

"Excellent," said Molly. "I'm planning to leave at sundown. Meet at Southwark Bridge?"

"I'll see you then," said Sherlock.

The door of the lab opened, and John walked in, his phone in hand. He gave a relieved sigh. "There you are. Where have you been?"

Sherlock frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

John frowned back at him. "You told me to meet you outside Royal Albert Hall. The case, remember?"

Sherlock's eyes widened slightly as he remembered. "Ah. Right." He glanced over at Molly for a second. _I forgot about a case? That's never happened before. _"Well, then. Let's, erm…get to it." He turned towards Molly. "I'll see you later, Molly."

"Thanks for helping me pass the time," Molly told him with a warm smile. "It would've been a dreadfully dull shift."

Sherlock smiled back. "Any time." He held her gaze for a moment longer before turning towards the door and leaving with John. As they left the lab behind, John started chuckling.

Sherlock frowned at him. "What?"

"Oh, don't try to play that off as nothing," John told him.

"Play what off?" asked Sherlock, truly confused.

John looked over at him, eyes searching, before shaking his head. "Wow, you really **don't** know."

"Know what?" asked Sherlock, getting frustrated.

John stopped and turned towards him with a smile. "You like her."

Sherlock shrugged. "Of course I like her. Why wouldn't I like her?"

"No, no, I mean, you **like **her," John spelled out. "Romantically."

"Romantically?" Sherlock scoffed. "I don't—"

"I'm not saying you love her," said John. "Or maybe you do; I wouldn't know. I'm saying you're attracted to her. You have feelings for her."

"That's preposterous," said Sherlock, starting off down the hall again.

"You **forgot about a case**, Sherlock," John told him as he walked next to him. "That has _never _happened before. And all because you were with Molly."

"It was an interesting experiment," Sherlock defended himself.

"And the look on your face when you look at her?" said John.

"I was being polite," said Sherlock, getting frustrated again.

"All right, answer me this: what's Molly's favorite color?" asked John.

"Yellow, but she is partial to purple."

"Her cat's name?"

"Tobias, named after her deceased grandfather. Toby for short."

"And how she takes her coffee?"

"One cream, one sugar."

John nodded as they reached the lifts. "I think I've proved my point." He pressed the down button.

"What point?"

John looked over at his friend. "You 'delete' everything that isn't useful, yes?"

Sherlock nodded. "Of course."

"And what use does Molly's cat's name offer to your Work?" said John as the doors opened. He stepped in as Sherlock stared at where he had been, his jaw open.

* * *

Sherlock walked along Upper Thames Street, his hands in his pockets as he contemplated everything. He had spent several days after his revelation at Bart's coming to terms with the fact that John was right: he **did **care for Molly. He just had no way of knowing how much. He had no experience with this sort of stuff, no references. And so, four days later, he had found himself starting a conversation over some afternoon tea.

"How do you know if you have serious feelings for a person?" Sherlock asked.

John looked up from the book he had been reading. "What?"

"How can you tell when feelings develop into something more?" Sherlock asked. "Or if they even have? How do you know?"

John set his book aside. "How can you tell if you're in love?"

Sherlock nodded.

John appeared to sober immediately. "Do you think you might be in love with Molly?"

"I don't know," said Sherlock in frustration. "That's why I'm asking."

John gave a sigh. "All right." He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. "I can give you some clues to help, but you have to remember: every person and every relationship is different, especially you. Not all of these may apply to you."

Sherlock nodded.

"You tend to think about that person most of the time," John began. "Maybe not one hundred percent of your day, but when your mind wanders, it wanders to them. You start thinking about your day in context of wanting them to be a part of it. You find yourself wanting to be around them, wanting to share your life with them. You start to hurry through your day so you can be with her. When you're with her, you're at peace." He then smirked slightly. "You're not bored. When you're doing something that you usually think of as unpleasant but you're doing it with that person, it's suddenly enjoyable." He held up his finger and pointed it at Sherlock. "But most importantly, you feel like you could not live without her. The idea of not having her in your life is absolutely unbearable."

John gave a shrug. "I hope that helps."

Sherlock nodded but did not respond for a long while as he delved into his mind palace. Just as John was picking his book back up, Sherlock said, "Thank you."

And now, here he was, off to meet Molly before the planetary alignment. He had indeed given his thoughts about and interactions with Molly a great deal of thought over the last two days. He guessed that most of John's clues did apply, but he wouldn't truly know until he was with Molly again.

Speaking of…

Molly stood in the middle of Southwark Bridge, watching the sun set behind St. Paul's Cathedral. She was smiling in the last warm moments of sunlight. Sherlock smiled fondly as he stepped up next to her.

"Can you feel it?" said Molly.

Sherlock glanced over at her.

"The coming moon…" said Molly. She turned, looking over towards Tower Bridge in the distance. Behind it, the full moon was starting to rise on the horizon.

Sherlock turned in the same direction, opening himself up to whatever magic Molly felt in the air. Sure enough, there it was: a hum of anticipation. He stared at the full moon, half-buried in the sea.

_Hmm… _Sherlock thought. _Watching the moon rise… I usually find this useless activity tedious. _He glanced over at Molly, smiling at the awestruck look on her face. _Not anymore._

Finding an unpleasant task enjoyable because of Molly's presence: check.

As soon as it was dark enough, Molly looked up at him. "Come on." She took his hand and pulled him along the pavement.

Sherlock chuckled at Molly's enthusiasm as he followed after her. They weaved through the pedestrians, ducking into an alley and hiding behind a skip. Glancing about to make sure they could not be seen, they turned invisible and ran towards the Thames, jumping in.

Molly looked back at him as they sped through the water. She smiled and cut in front of him. Sherlock swerved out of her path as Molly silently laughed. He then grinned as he sped up, looping over and around her. Disoriented, Molly turned, losing her sense of direction. By the time she recovered, Sherlock was well ahead of her, looking back at her with a sly grin. Molly laughed as she caught up to him, and they swam side by side. Sherlock glanced at her as she swam.

_God, what would I do without you, Molly Hooper?_

It was true: he could not survive without her in his life. It would be a death worse than any he could imagine. Did this mean that he loved her?

Sherlock reached over and slowly took hold of her hand. Molly looked back at their hands and then at him, smiling as their fingers entwined.

Sherlock smiled back at her. _I think it might._


End file.
